Bite The Bullet
by Bro love ski
Summary: A year after his breakup, a newly confident Kyle Broflovski finally returns to South Park and Stan Marsh couldn't be happier. However, as Stan tries to come to terms with budding romantic feelings, he may not have time to sort out his emotions before Kyle's old flame starts making his move. Style. K2. Will contain sex scenes.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** **Okay well. I hope you enjoy this. I'll have more soon. Already working diligently.**

 **I'm a sucker for Kyle you guys. He is bae.**

Stark's Pond seemed to lose most of its luster after Kyle left. The once glistening pool was now a dark and uninviting puddle. Even now as the group of teenagers gathered around it, they did not see the appeal anymore. This place was missing a very important component. To imagine Stark's Pond, was to imagine a skinny, red haired boy sitting on the shore, reading or sketching a picture. The image was so clear to everyone: the boy would sit for hours almost every day, enjoying the ambience and serenity that the pond once infatuated. Everyone associated this spot with Kyle Broflovski and without him being there, the place was almost unrecognizable, especially to one person.

Stan Marsh stood in Kyle's once usual spot, waving his phone up to God, desperately wishing he could have service for just a moment. He groaned in frustration as he brought his phone back down and seeing the "No Service" message appear on his screen. He tried again, being so absorbed in trying to make a phone call that he made thousands of times before, that he didn't hear the sloshing footsteps behind him.

"Marsh, come back and join the group. It's cold over here." Craig Tucker pointed over his shoulder at the camp fire that everyone was cuddled around. Stan smiled softly, blue eyes skimming through his friends. There was Clyde, Token, Tweek, Butters, and even Cartman, laughing, smiling, and drinking the beer they still weren't old enough to have. Stan could only respond with a nod before shoving his phone deep into his jeans.

Craig shuffled his feet in the snow, realizing that Stan wasn't following. He was still staring out into the blackness, listening to the water ripple against itself. "You still trying to get up with Broflovski?" Craig asked, burying his hands into coat, groping fingers finding his scratched up lighter and carton of cigs.

"I haven't heard from him in a couple of weeks." Stan replied, accepting one of Craig's cigarettes. He bent down against the newly born flame and inhaled the warmth and relaxing sensation of tobacco. "I think he lost his phone again. I mean, he loses that thing all the time. He's a genius about everything except putting his phone back into his pocket."

Craig grunted and turned towards the pond to exhale an astounding amount of smoke. He's become too familiar with how to take in so much poison. "Luckily, you don't need to know where to keep a cellphone to get into one of those fancy schools in New York." He waited a moment, before turning towards his friend again. "What's it been now? A year? That's not too bad."

"It is if you're us." Stan laughed, "It's like my other half is gone."

"Kenny's too."

Stan's smile faded and he meshed his cancer stick between his fallen lips. Kenny wouldn't come to Stark's Pond anymore. Even with friends. Stan knew that Kenny blamed himself for Kyle's sudden decision to join that academy and move to New York. And he was probably right.

Stan had always been hesitant about Kyle and Kenny becoming a couple. Kenny had a notorious past of having sex with anything with a heartbeat and drinking until he couldn't remember his own name. But, with time and Kyle's regulation, they seemed to work well together and Stan supported his friends. Lord knows they needed it, being branded as a "fag" couple in a redneck town wasn't exactly the biggest honor. Because of this, Kyle had gotten into fights almost every other day. He was too feisty for his own good and wouldn't let a fucker get away with a free insult. Kenny never seemed to care though, he didn't feel as though they _were_ insults. Apparently, being called a fag was a step up from the usual tags he was trademarked with. And whatever bigoted, drunken insult that came spattering out of the neighborhood's mouth, Kenny simply shrugged it off, calling it the "intense truth" and would return to coddling his boyfriend.

But something happened… Stan didn't know all the details, because neither one would talk about it, but somehow Kenny fucked up. The seemingly perfect couple broke up and Kyle left as soon as possible, to what Stan would hope to be bigger and better things. Kenny was left behind in South Park, a ghost of his former self, just drifting through town to relive his past mistakes.

Stan confronted him, only once, and it was a forceful hurricane of emotion and all of his words and blows were gladly accepted by Kenny, who only agreed to Stan's "intense truth". Stan, almost like a saint, felt Kenny's smoldering remorse and slowly became friends with him again. However, he always had some resentment towards him, even though he's sure Kenny hates himself more than he ever could. It was surprising though, when Kyle was wronged or was distraught, he'd usually challenge his demons head on, not run away. So when the day came that Kyle told him he would be leaving, Stan felt part of him rip off and fester on the ground. He had gone everyday seeing Kyle, to nothing.

"You there, Marsh?"

"Huh? Oh yeah, just… thinking." Stan hadn't realized that he was stagnant for a few minutes, even letting his cigarette burn to its end. He flicked the bud into the water and watched as Craig followed suit. He didn't remember when he'd taken up smoking, but he was grateful he had them during times like this when his mind would wandering into memories he didn't exactly want to relive.

"Come on," Craig nodded back to the group again. "We only have a few more days before we start senior year. Let's not waste it being pussies."

Stan laughed before slapping Craig on the back and turning towards the warm flickering light. Another school year without Kyle was going to be hard on him, but he didn't want to be some sulking Goth kid about it and he didn't want to ignore the people who were still here. The two raven haired teens made their way back over to the tree logs, sitting down with the group; Craig beside Tweek, and Stan on the one empty space.

"Were you writing poetry over there, fag?" Cartman asked, pointing his beer at Stan, his eyebrows knitted down and his round face stretched into a cocky smile.

"I was pondering how someone could be so fat." Stan replied quickly, "Pass me those marshmallows, you don't need anymore."

Cartman growled before throwing the bag at his face. Stan fumbled to catch them, a few bouncing from his lap and into the fire. Stan smiled coyly at him before setting the bag down beside him, pulling out a few sugar dusted treats and sticking them to the pointed end of a stick. Once his eyes reverted upwards he saw that all his friends were staring at him softly.

"Uh. What?" Stan asked, checking behind himself to make sure there wasn't a giant guinea pig.

"You okay, man?" Clyde asked, twiddling a small twig into the flames. "You were over there awhile."

"What? Yes, I'm fine guys." Stan waved his hand frantically, trying to remove the awkwardness from the air. Everyone's eyes were still locked on his. With an idea in mind, he quickly stood up and headed towards his truck. "Why don't I play some music?"

Carman burped, tossing his now empty beer bottle into the woods behind them. "No one wants to hear your hippie music."

"I want to," Butters chimed, "Why, when I hear those guitar strings, they make me want to do a little jig!"

"Chriiiiist." Cartman buried his face into his hands, his brunette hair dangling over his hands to help conceal his displeasure at the thought of Butters dancing.

Token started to laugh loudly at seeing Cartman's discontent. He moved closer to the larger boy and stretched his arms over his head. His eyes shifted and a smug smile pushed across his face. "Cartman, don't you want to hear Stan play and Clyde sing?"

"Oh! Hell yes! Let me sing for you, Stan!" Clyde called out, moving from his seat to the one next to Stan's. Stan couldn't help but snicker, remembering that Clyde is completely tone deaf. Cartman also remembered this detail about their overly excited friend, letting out a long and miserable groan. Stan reached into his back seat and pulled out his guitar. He'd started playing when he was around nine years old and had definitely improved since then. He found himself playing some nights at the bars for less than average pay. He didn't mind though, money was money and he had to admit he liked the attention.

When Stan returned to his seat, Clyde was practicing his scales and Tweek was shaking about how if he sang too loudly, the trolls would come and kill them all.

"Any request?" Stan asked, holding the guitar's head, and turning its pegs, making sure it was properly tuned.

"The Hybrid Car song." Cartman mumbled sarcastically, hands still holding up his large face.

Stan smiled, remembering the song, and why he wrote. Remembering first time he lost Kyle and how he was returned to him. He wished that it would happen again, but he didn't foresee any way possible this time. Kyle had left on his own. Stan strummed the familiar strings, feeling a wave of nostalgia wash over him as the notes started coming together. Maybe… Kyle will come back on his own too? Stan lifted his head towards the sky, drinking in just how many stars you could see from outside the town. For a moment, he realized all the reasons why Kyle loved this place. "You remember the lyrics, Clyde?"

"Not like they were complicated, dude."


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Okay, I had finished this a while ago, but I keep adding more and more details to it. I hope it's a satisfying read for you guys! :D**

It had been a few days since Stan's visit to Stark's pond. Now, the raven haired boy was held up in his bedroom, tossing his football towards the ceiling and catching it in his firm calloused hands. He was irrefutably bored out of his mind. Stan, being very dependent, could only find enjoyment when he was around other people. Now, it was his last day of summer and he was awake too early to hang out with anyone. All of his friends would be out cold until noon, but thanks to Stan's old habit of waking up at the crack of dawn for sports practice, he was wired to be up at first light. The teen rubbed the leather of the football one last time before laying it down on his bedside desk. He stood, stretching long muscular limbs over his head. Football had done his body good as he was now lean and strong. Much more so than most kids in his grade; he would never admit it, but he was a very attractive young man. With his looks, he didn't have trouble hooking up with girls; most of the time it was Wendy Testaburger, his on and off again girlfriend since they were in middle school. He loved her hypnotic curves, her long dark charcoal colored hair, and her stunning hazel eyes. But sex appeal was all she could offer Stan, because due to her hectic schedule, she wouldn't allow herself to become a full time thing. Wendy had compromised to being a usual fling, even humbly allowing Stan to try branching out to different girls, none of which could hold his consideration very long. He was very particular and he just couldn't find that special attachment. An attachment that he'd only been able to have with Wendy, his friends, and particularly a red haired Jew.

He reached for his phone, hopelessly checking to see if Kyle had finally gotten up with him. Nothing. Only Snapchats that Clyde had sent of himself on the toilet. Stan shuddered and messaged him how much of a sick fuck he was before sighing deeply at the thought that maybe… Kyle didn't want to talk to him anymore. Perhaps he didn't lose his phone this time and was moving on with his life, finally forgetting South Park; something he always said he'd do. The awareness was heartbreaking and he could feel the hairs on his body stick straight up and his heart sank into his gut. He shook his head profusely, letting black strands fall into his face. He didn't like it when his mind started making shit up and he knew that the only way to stop his paranoid brain ramblings was to get up and be with someone. Part of Stan's major personal flaw was that he couldn't handle his feelings when was upset, and became addictive to having other people take his mind off of it for him.

Stan quickly scrolled through his contacts until his came across Kenny McCormick's number. He hadn't seen his blonde haired, potty mouthed friend in a few days. Kenny was working a lot repairing cars, trying to make rent every month. Earlier this year when he had turned eighteen, Kenny persuaded Craig to move in with him at one of South Park's small but decent looking apartment complexes. Stan was relieved for him, his upbringing wasn't the most suitable for children or even adults for that matter.

Stan pressed the call button, wondering if he was even up yet. It was a bit of a long shot as he knew how Kenny was, but with any luck perhaps he hasn't even _gone_ to sleep yet. He listened to the dial tone patiently, pulling out a clean shirt from his dresser drawer. A small click and cool voice drifted into the speaker. "Hey man, what's up?"

"Not much, dude. Wanna hang out today?" Stan asked as he slipped off the tank top he'd slept in, his body illuminated by the sunlight pouring into his room from the frost covered window. The invading cold air circling his body gave him chills.

"Sounds good. Come over whenever." Kenny hummed, wind rattling through the phone. Stan figured he was outside smoking again. His apartment had a patio and Kenny's favorite pastime was to relax on it, taking long drags of his Marlboros.

"Alright, I'm about to leave." Stan ended the call and set the phone back down. He started to change into his pants when immediately his cell vibrated against the table. Thinking Kenny had forgotten something, he casually picked it up. However, the number was not his friend's, but one he had not seen before. Stan scoffed, ignoring it. "Fuck you, no name."

Stan's house wasn't too far from Kenny's apartment, it was only about an 8 minute drive. The complex was quiet, nothing he would expect Kenny to live in. Stan closed his truck door and mechanically walked his way towards Kenny's first floor apartment, footsteps unsettlingly loud against the slosh covered pavement. Reaching the door he gave a quick knock out of his habitual good nature. He knew neither Kenny nor Craig would answer the door unless they'd order take out. Shaking his head Stan turned the knob and entered through the threshold.

Ironically, Kenny's apartment was always clean, which could be argued that it was because he didn't enough stuff _to_ make a mess. If you knew the pervert as a child, you would remember his torn down dump by the railroad tracks. When he moved out it was revealed that he didn't have a lot of possessions, just a few clothes and magazines. The clutter from his parent's house was mostly beer bottles and trash bags. It was Craig who had brought the couches in the living room and possibly even the television, and that was all. It was bleak to say the least, but definitely an improvement from the previous McCormick residence.

Stan made a B line to the patio opening the sliding doors and revealing the blonde haired, ragged soul nestled into a broken apart bench. Wearing a torn white t-shirt, ripped up jeans, and just as Stan thought, a Marlboro was dangling carelessly from his lips. Blue, tired eyes shifted their stare towards Stan. "Hey dude, pull up a seat."

"Thanks," Stan replied, sitting across from him in a paint peeled wooden chair. "Ready for senior year?"

"Ecstatic." Kenny took a long inhale from his cig, letting the smoke heal him in a terrible way, and then exhaling it towards the sky.

Stan smiled, taking out his own carton, seeing the black smoke rise to the sky made his body ache with the desire to have it inflate his lungs.

"Where's Craig?" Stan asked as if he didn't already know.

"Still sleeping."

"Lazy fuck."

Kenny chuckled and agreed with half lidded eyes. It certainly did seem that Kenny hasn't slept yet. "You playing football this year?"

"Nah," Stan shrugged. "It was too stressful. Kind of want my last year to be enjoyable. I want to at least see my friends this year before we all go into different directions."

Kenny nodded, knowing that when Stan did play, he was always under so much pressure as the school's star quarterback. He was rarely around, taking extra time to be prepared for games and doubling up on practice. He was better off playing his music anyway.

"With the way you smoke now, you'd probably just pass the fuck out." Kenny smirked. "Thought you had asthma. Don't die on me, _you_ can't come back."

"I haven't had an episode since I was like 8." Stan chuckled, biting down on the butt of his cigarette. Stan liked it when it was just him and Kenny talking like this. It was a piece of his insane childhood that he didn't absolutely hate.

They continued rambling for a while longer, about school, weird shit that seemed to mostly happen to the elementary school kids, and about where life would take them after this year. Neither one of them knew the answer to the latter. Stan figured that Kenny would just continue to work as a mechanic, skipping college completely. When Kenny was dating Kyle, the blonde did very well in school, trying to make sure that he could follow his boyfriend to Denver after high school, and Kyle was always pushing and nagging him to study more when he felt that he was slacking off. However, that plan had burned to flames and Kyle would probably attend college in New York, without Kenny or even Stan. The academy he was currently enrolled in was supposed to help their graduates get into prestigious schools to become doctors, or lawyers, or astronauts, or some shit. Stan smirked at the thought of Dr. Broflovski.

During their drabbles Stan noticed a newly awake Craig, slug through the living room from his lair, feet too tired to even lift from the carpet. The raven haired boy was about to greet his grumpy friend when he was halted by sudden a vibration from his phone. Frantically, he retrieved the device before groaning at the unrecognized number again. "Dude, I don't know who this is." He stared, eyes narrowing at the numbers as if the name would reveal itself if he looked hard enough.

"Well, answer it." Kenny shrugged, smoke spilling from his lips. "Just hang up if it's some pervert asking for pictures of your cock. Or throw him a bone. Literally."

Stan grimaced at the thought and answered his phone on its last ring. "Hello?" He said almost irritable, not to sound too willing to talk just in case it _was_ a stranger or telemarketer.

"Stan?" Came a familiar and delightful voice. A voice that Stan had listened to many times, ranting, protesting… laughing. A voice that had called out to him in life and death situations. A voice that he had been longing to hear from. A voice that belonged to the best friend he'd ever had.

He was so surprised that he couldn't respond, his body just stiffened and a confused Kenny quirked an eyebrow. "Stan, are you there?"

"Kyle!" Stan shouted instinctively, his eyes shifted back and forth as excitement filled them to the brim. Stan quickly felt a small pang of guilt, drum against his chest upon seeing Kenny's fallen face. It looked like a mixture of dejection and jealousy, his blue gaze resting on the gravel below. Stan chose to push it aside for a just moment, needing this conversation like he needed air. His best friend was once again acknowledging his existence. "Yes, I'm here!"

"Dude! I'm so sorry! I lost my phone… again." Kyle's happy voice almost created a music for Stan and he could easily exhale all the excruciating thoughts that he had earlier. "This is my new number! Okay, just save this one!"

"O-okay I will," Stan beamed, turning his head away from Kenny's view. "How are you dude? It's been a while."

"Good, dude! Aw fuck!" Stan could hear a large ruckus in the background and a few people scrambling. "Come on you guys, there's fragile stuff in that box… Anyway. Stan, still there?"

"Yeah I'm here." Stan said, cupping his phone to his ear, straining to hear Kyle over all the noise.

Kyle let out an irritated sigh, a door being opened and closed was heard through the phone. "Sorry about that. Listen, I'm sending you a gift." Stan's ear perked up. They haven't ever sent each other gifts, except during their birthdays. "I think you're going to like—Hey! You guys, please be careful. Jesus Christ. Listen Stan, I'll text you okay?"

"Yeah, sounds good… a-and thank you." Stan stammered, a small disappointment trailing in his voice as Kyle said a quick "See ya!" before hanging up the phone. Stan waited a moment in a blissful state, relieved the Kyle hadn't forgotten about him after all. His small smile was quickly wiped away, finding Kenny looking off into the distance, blonde hair being gently pushed back against the breeze and a solemn expression tainting his face.

"Sorry… about that Kenny." Stan mumbled, scratching the back of his head.

Kenny's eyes reopened, and he turned towards Stan waving a hand. "Dude, its fine. Really. I'm glad you guys still talk."

"Yeah, but to do it in front of you…"

"Stan, its fine." Kenny pulled another cigarette from the carton. "And… I could just barely hear his voice through phone. It was kind of nice. I mean, he probably still hates me, but I liked hearing him talk like he was happy."

Stan raked his fingers against his knees. He knew that Kenny still had feelings for Kyle, and sometimes he couldn't help but feel sympathetic towards him. He wished he could tell him that Kyle no longer hated him, but he honestly didn't know any more. Other times, he still felt that Kenny was getting what he deserved. Whatever he did, must've been really fucked up for Kyle to just leave town. But that was just the bitter part of him. Kyle never told Stan all the details and whenever they did speak, Kyle would only want to talk about what the other was doing. Stan didn't even know much about Kyle's new life in New York. He only knew that Kyle made some new friends, but that was the extent, he didn't even know their names.

"Kenny."

"Hm?"

"If you ever saw Kyle again… would you try to get him back?" Stan was testing the waters of this question, hoping to not upset his friend.

Kenny stretched out his long arms, his white t-shirt lifting up against is stomach. He let the thought sink in completely, really giving an attempt to answer this question that he'd asked himself millions of times before. "Well," he began, "I don't think I'll ever see him again. Except at your wedding or some shit. So there's really no chance in that happening."


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I would've had this sooner, but I was on vacation! I'm back now and already working on the next chapter! Sorry it was kind of a slow start, but I really want to give everyone a good grasp of the characters and their feelings! But, it should begin to pick up now!**

The first day of school was as long and miserable as Stan had imagined. The raven haired teen was leaning against the gated fence that surrounded the school roof, the cold metal pressed harshly against his body. His hands were pushed deep into his pockets, aloofly fiddling with his lighter as he tuned in and out of the conversations his friends were having. This is where Stan, Craig, Kenny, Cartman, Tweek, Clyde, Token, and even the innocent Butters would hide away from the teachers during their lunch hour and partake in decisions that were supposed to be too adult for them to make.

The food the cafeteria served was dubbed complete and utter "bullshit" by no other than Eric Cartman, and if the school renowned fatass wouldn't eat the slop, then it was safe to say that it wasn't worth paying for. The boys used to avoid the cafeteria by hiding in the bathroom or outside by the dumpster. However, Kyle was never pleased with the cramp or unsanitary hiding places, so it was the Jew that discovered the always unlocked door to the roof, starting this almost ceremonial gathering for the next few years. Every lunch period since the end of their freshman year, the group would retreat to the roof, fill up on nicotine or an occasional water bottle filled with some kind of sin, and waste away on the old metal benches that were carelessly left there to corrode away.

The first person on the roof would lock the doors by sliding an old flag pole through the handles. To be allowed entry, you'd have scratch two times and knock three on the door. It was an agreed upon secret code. If you forgot, like Butters often did, you wouldn't get in, no exceptions. The last thing the boys wanted was for a teacher to find their hidden spot and put an end to their delinquent activities. Here is where they'd become addicted to cigarettes and alcohol, and where they could sharpen their dirty tongues into crude weapons of conflict.

Every now and then, Kenny would bring a blunt, which was more of a high risk-high reward activity. If you didn't do it with enough time to air yourself out, someone would notice the rank smell, and you'd get your ass suspended. Craig would know this first hand. He had to leave the school for an entire month once, leaving Tweek an emotional wreck. The fidgety coffee addict was constantly talking about how the gnomes had must've taken him or that he was lying dead somewhere with his ass in the air. Tweek completely disregarded everyone trying to explain to him that his cranky friend was simply at home, probably still smoking a blunt.

"You guys," Clyde called out erratically, gaining the ears of his friends. A cocky smile smeared across his face as he took the center of the space. "We seriously need to throw a party!"

A silence fell over them after Clyde's declaration, everyone staring from their spots on the bench toward the short brunette. The boy just looked back confidentially, a cigarette tucked behind his ear and his arms crossed over his front.

"It's the first day of school. What would we throw a party for?" Token finally argued, never one for spontaneous stupidity.

He smiled at him, taking the cigarette and sticking it between his lips. Clyde may have more of an impressionable personality than Stan did, as the boisterous kid was always picking up the bad habits of his friends. "To get laid of course!"

"Go back to your virgin club with Butters and the coffee bean." Cartman was proud to retort, always loving to remind everyone that he has stuck his dick in something that wasn't heated up in the microwave. Although, Stan wouldn't call one time in a completely intoxicated state something to brag about.

Clyde paled at the larger boy's comment and rubbed his hand behind his head tensely. "Well, I mean. Some of us want to graduate from the club…" The embarrassed teen shifted his gaze from his plump heckler until he locked eyes with a blonde haired deviant who was sunk comfortably into his spot on the bench. "Kenny, teach me how to get my dick wet!"

Kenny initially jolted at the comment, but he easily smiled devilishly, eyes narrowing onto his naïve friend. The blonde sat up, cracking his shoulders and let out a satisfied sigh. "Not something you teach my friend. It's a super power. Saving one horny soul at a time."

Stan actually face palmed hearing the stupid shit that came spilling out of his friend's mouth. Sometimes he wondered how Kyle could date someone so tasteless. Then again, that's probably why Kyle liked him so much. "I don't remember Mysterion being so NC-17." Stan said, eyes still blinded by his hand.

"Oh God, I forgot about Mysterion!" Kenny beamed, his cocky smile replaced with one more genuine as nostalgia washed over him. "Maybe I can use that for my porn name."

"Ugh, no one would want to watch you having sex, poor boy." Cartman groaned, his chubby fingers tapped vigorously against his phone's screen. More than likely spreading a rumor again via internet. He'd become notorious for that.

"I know several people who would beg to differ with you." Kenny snorted, leaning back comfortably, throwing his hands behind his head.

Stan laughed lightly, continuing to look at his friends from his place against the fence. They all had their own uniqueness to them. Some were independent, some were caring, some were blunt, some were clueless, and they just all seemed to work well together as a whole. Sometimes he would hate their guts and other times he'd love them to pieces. All in all, these were the friends he would talk about to his kids someday. Although, the role for Stan's super best friend was already filled.

The raven felt a buzzing in his pocket and he reached in and grabbed his phone. There on the screen read: "New Message from Ky". Stan excitedly went straight to his in box to find his message.

"Hey, you should be getting my gift really soon. (:"

Stan quickly remembered Kyle's words from their last conversation about sending him a random present. The boy looked up from his phone, making sure no one was watching him. He didn't want anyone to know that Kyle was texting him, he didn't want everyone asking him questions about their absent red haired friend, because he didn't like to admit that he didn't _know_ what Kyle was up to anymore. Once he was sure that everyone was too wrapped up in their own business, he quickly typed out: "Can't wait, dude! U didn't have to send me anything tho."

Almost immediately, the phone vibrated in his hand with Kyle's reply. "It's no problem, I hope you like it."

Stan didn't have time to write a response before he heard a familiar noise coming from the entrance doors. Two scratches and three knocks. Everyone stopped and held still. An uneasy silence fell amongst the group, most people, especially Tweek, had a look of fear plastered across their faces.

"Oh, Jesus." A shaky Tweek squeaked out. "It's gotta be a ghost."

"Shh." Craig hissed as he stood and through his cigarette over the fence, watching as the others followed suit.

"Everyone is already up here. We should just ignore it. Could be a teacher." Clyde said in a hushed tone, his hands creeping up to his chest anxiously. Stan continued to stare at the white metal doors. Something in his chest told him to get up and open it, while his permanent record screamed to stay still.

"Don't be silly fellas!" Butters sang loudly, standing to everyone's dismay. "We said we'd open the door to anyone who knew the knock! We gotta let 'em in!"

"Butters I will put you in a headlock if you go to that door." Cartman stood, blocking the small teen, arms spread to his side to keep him from getting by. However, when the scratching and the knocks came again, Cartman looked back and Butters took the moment to squirrel around him and scamper to the door.

"Butters I swear to God!" Cartman threatened, attempting to grab at the boy. Butters, being much faster, was able to pull the pole from the handles before the large boy seized him by his small stringy arms, forcing him back.

It was like Pandora's Box was open as everyone heard the _clang_ of the metal pole hit the cement ground. The door started to crack open and most of the boys began their excuses in their heads, while others just shrugged and prepared for their fates, Stan simply pinched the bridge of his nose out of annoyance of the guiltless Butters.

However, there was no teacher coming furiously through the doors to tear them a new asshole. Instead, entered a boy with fiery red curls around his pale face, and large emerald colored eyes. Stan froze as a familiar sight anchored his heart down into his stomach. He heard nothing but a pulse in his ears as he watched this boy step through the doorway, and simply smile, holding his hand up in greeting.

"Oh my God!" Clyde screamed out first, his voice rattling amongst his staggered friends. "It's fucking Kyle!"

Quickly he, Butters, and Token, were by the red head's side, each giving him a long awaited hug and a few pats on the back. Even Tweek joined him by his side, looking him up and down frantically, making sure he wasn't an imposter. They all started buzzing around him and asking questions, while he just smiled, his eyes jumping from each of their faces. Craig remained seated, but gave a small smile, never dropping his cool facade. Cartman crossed his arms and huffed back into his seat, mostly feeling annoyed he wasted a cigarette for nothing. And Kenny mirrored the same expression as Stan, mouth agape with eyes wide, heart beating so painfully against his chest he was sure it tear out of his sternum.

Kyle finally locked eyes with Stan's and gave an electric grin to his best friend, who was now slowly stepping forward, still wearing a dumbfounded expression. "Ha! Are you surprised, Stan?" He asked through the arms of an overdramatic Clyde.

"Does… Does this mean no gift?"

Kyle busted into a laugh and this was enough for Stan to lunge forward, knocking Clyde out of the way and embracing his friend in a tight hug. Kyle gasped before wrapping his arms back around Stan, the smiles of his friends adding to this moment.

"Fags!" Cartman called out on cue; he wouldn't allow such pleasantness to last long. It was completely ruining the hardcore atmosphere.

Kyle quickly let go of his friend, spun on his heel and with a furrowed brow belted "Fuck off, you fat shit!" Cartman almost looked happy as Kyle let the words out so easily, even giving a small satisfied nod before turning back to his phone.

Kyle huffed, and let his shoulder's fall again. In his effort to turn back towards Stan and the others, he stopped, his eyes fallen on to a leisurely approaching Kenny. The intensity of the scene was thick enough to smother everyone there, as Stan himself could feel a tightness in his throat. No one moved or spoke as they watched Kenny, the ex-boyfriend, make his way towards Kyle. It was like a slow motion movie, even the color around them seemed to dull a bit. Stan tried to study his best friend from the view of his back. Surprisingly… he seemed relaxed.

"Good to see you, Kyle." Kenny spoke softly, but the words felt like thunder. His face was solemn and serious, a side to him that people aren't used to seeing. He was forcing himself into a familiar and frightening territory. A group of eyes shifted down to the red head, waiting for his reaction.

"Good to see you too!" Kyle shined happily, throwing everyone completely off their guard, especially as he gave Kenny a friendly pat on the arm. Kyle didn't explode, or throw a punch, or do anything Kyle-like. Stan had played this moment in his head so many times and none of the scenarios went quite this harmonious. He always remembered the look on Kyle's angry tear stained face the day he came to his house declaring that he absolutely and unquestionably hated Kenny. But now, he greeted the boy as if he had no recollection of his last days in South Park, and it was safe to say that Kenny was just as surprised as Stan was.

"Dude! Now this is a reason to throw a party! Kyle's back!" Clyde's sudden burst of energy pulled the tension from level 10 back down to a flat 0. The boy was never good for reading a room, which was a relief in this case. He started excitedly shaking his newly returned friend, completely redirecting the attention of the group.

"Kyle," Stan began, pulling his friend by his shoulders to face him. His eyes were still wide, his brain trying to adjust from seeing a mental image of his friend, to a present physical form. "What about that academy in New York? Are you visiting… or are you back for good?"

"Yeah," He smiled, his green eyes flashed up to Stan's ocean colored orbs. "I'm back for good."

 **A/N: Yay! Kyle is back! But why? Now the fun will begin! ;3**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Sorry about uploading and then removing, something weird happened to the format, so I wanted to fix it! But, hopefully it works now!**

 **Here is where I give a little bit of background on Kyle. It's about time he spoke up, the little rascal. My intention is to portray him as bit reserved and disinterested. Well anyway…**

Stan, to his surprise, was able to easily convince Kyle to skipping the rest of school. Just a simple, "let's get out of here" and the red haired boy was sold. Perhaps, Kyle felt that he needed bonding time with his super best friend more so than he needed the syllabuses to all of his classes. Kyle was a fucking genius anyway, not like he was going to fall far behind, and neither would Stan now that his personal tutor for all subjects was home. They spent the rest of their afternoon sitting on their favorite bench beside Stark's pond. The view had completely changed since a few days ago. Kyle was the sun for this place, his aura just seemed to shine so brightly among the water ripples. The quiet air brushed softly against them, Stan even smiled as he saw Kyle's curls dance around freely. He'd missed the mixture of red and green, this unique pop of color that just seemed to expand further than his actual form. Everyone else just seemed to fail in comparison to how distinctive he was. And to be frank, Stan was thrilled that Kyle couldn't be enjoyed by other people that weren't him.

"So what happened to the academy?" Stan finally broke the comfortable silence. He honestly didn't have any clue that Kyle had ever wanted come back to this little mountain town, so seeing the boy next to him once again had his head reeling.

Kyle didn't turn to him, his eyes fixated over the pond, his shoulders still relaxed hanging over the back side of the bench. "Well," He began slowly, as if he were trying to figure it out himself. "Kind of decided that I didn't want to be a doctor anymore… Or should I say, I didn't care that my _mom_ wanted me to be a doctor anymore."

Stan nodded slowly, his eyes trying to connect with Kyle's jade orbs… but they just didn't seem to turn his direction. "Well, what do you want to be?"

Kyle smirked and pulled his hands over his face, hiding a small smile. Stan, although confused, couldn't help but smile with him. "What is it, Kyle?" He pressed on, "Now I _have_ to know."

"Okay, but don't tell anyone." Kyle whispered, even taking a moment to look around. Whatever it is, must be completely out of character for him. "So for starters, I'm glad I took those anatomy classes."

"What? Are you going to be a stripper?"

"No way, asshole." Kyle chuckled, punching Stan in his arm. "No one could afford my services in this hick town. But, seriously… It helped me understand proportions… and well, I discovered I have a real talent for drawing.

"You. Wanna be an artist?" Stan asked, cocking an eyebrow. He'd never once seen Kyle draw anything since they left middle school. To say he was hesitant was an understatement.

"Well, I kinda already am. Sort of. Whatever." Kyle shrugged and turned his gaze back out towards the pond. Why was it so hard to get him to talk now? Back in the day, Stan couldn't get him to shut the fuck up.

"What does that mean?" Stan continued to prod, even scooting closer to let the smaller teen know he was listening. Kyle smiled over at his raven haired friend and shoved him gently. It was clear that he wasn't going to go into further detail, which actually scratched into Stan's super best friend medal.

Kyle said nothing for a while, his body was sitting right there but his mind couldn't be further away. Stan was beginning to feel uneasy, like maybe he was boring him. After all, he hadn't seen him in a year, Kyle could be a completely different person now. _That_ was terrifying.

"Well, there's a lot of art schools in New York. Much better art schools up there than around here." Stan tried to bond again, thinking maybe the best route would be to talk up this new artist decision. "What made you decide to come back home?"

"Just fucked some people. Things got messy." Kyle paused for a moment, his eyes looking everywhere they could before his body moved up off the bench with lips forming kind of a sad smile. A new look to this new Kyle. Now Stan was really concerned, his mind racing with possibilities: _Did_ _Kyle hurt someone? Did he get into some trouble with a bunch people? Was he on the run?_ Stan didn't get a chance to ask these questions as Kyle's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Look, let's not talk about New York anymore. Can we just go play video games or something?"

"…Yeah, okay Kyle." Stan stood up beside him and attempted to reach out to give his back a small friendly pat, but something halted his hand. He slowly recoiled his fingers and let them fall back to his sides. He couldn't let this go. If Kyle truly _was_ his super best friend, and if he _was_ in trouble, then he was going to find a solution, god damn it! No one was going to take him away again. "Wait, no. It's not okay. Kyle, if you're in trouble, we can get you help! I mean your dad's a lawyer! Whoever you fucked over isn't going to touch a single curl on your mop of a head! "

Kyle's eyes were wide, Stan's sudden outburst catching him off his guard. He stared at the raven's determined face and couldn't help but begin to laugh loudly. He attempted to cover his mouth, trying hard to not insult his friend's valiant attempt, but gave up and just continued on. "What? What are you laughing at? Kyle. Cut it out."

"I'm not running from the mafia or some shit, Stan." Kyle chuckled out, now straightening back up to face his friend head on. "I literally meant I fucked people. Like had _sexual relations_? People got their feelings hurt, drama was constant, and so it kind of sealed the deal with my decision to come back home… Well that and I wanted to see you, of course."

Stan was dumbfounded. This prude of a boy… This once killjoy… Just explained that he just bailed on multiple fuck buddies to get away from drama. He felt a lump in his throat as he stared at what looked like Kyle _. Could this be an imposter? What happened to that shy bookworm of a boy? That one true love, relationship guy? The one who swore off intimacy after his broken heart?_

"I… I don't know what to say."

"Don't say anything. Shh. Come on, no more talkie about New Yorkie." Kyle motioned with his hands for Stan to begin walking.

As much as Stan wanted to continue to question Kyle, he let it die. He didn't want to exhaust him and it was clear his friend was over explaining anyway. He simply nodded and began trudging through the mushy snow covered ground. He listened to the footsteps following closely, wondering to himself if Kyle was actually telling him the truth. But, it wasn't like Kyle to make up stories like that, and part of him didn't want to know any more about it. It's not like Stan was a judgmental person, but just thinking about it made him feel uncomfortable for some reason. He tried his hardest to ignore those annoying questions ringing like bells in his head and continued to make his way towards his house with Kyle in tow.

The rest of the night went more smoothly than it had earlier. Stan and Kyle seemed to fall back into an old and familiar rhythm after spending a good few hours sprawled over the Marsh's couch. Kyle's infectious laughing and smiling settled Stan's once boiling stomach down. He was way too sensitive when it came to Kyle, which he could easily blame it on his anxiety if he needed to. However, hearing Kyle laugh over Terrance and Phillip reruns made all the anxiousness and confusion from earlier slip away.

"Why is this stupid shit so funny now?" Kyle snickered out, wiping a tears from his brilliant green eyes. "It doesn't make any sense!"

"I know!" Stan agreed, his head turning back towards his television. He grinned at the two Canadians running through a skit he'd seen probably 100 times.

"Hey," Kyle began, with a large smirk stretching across his face. "Do you think Terrance and Phillip fuck on those lonely drunken nights?"

"What! No way dude, they're best friends. Like you and me."  
Kyle continued to smile at Stan, his eyes for the first time capturing Stan's gaze, slicing right through him. This expression he wore so easily was really familiar, but Stan just couldn't put his finger on it. "Best friends can fuck, Stan."

That's it. That out of nowhere, intense, flirtatious face was something he had seen Kenny McCormick master. Stan's mouth fell slightly agape and out tumbled a nervous laugh, but Kyle didn't laugh back; just sported that questionable smile and narrowed eyes. The fuck?

Suddenly, by the grace of God, a small tune came from the pocket of Stan's jeans and he gladly stood up, fishing out his phone. "See that Kyle? Phones fit in pockets. Phones have ringers so you can hear them when someone is calling you."

"Thanks mom… wait. Where _is_ my phone?"

Stan dropped his lecture when he noticed the name flashing across his screen was no other than Kyle's notorious ex-boyfriend, Kenny McCormick. _Could Kenny sense Kyle's flirty "joke"_? Stan knew better than to ignore Kenny's phone call, especially since the boy only called when there's some serious shit going down… plus it's not like he's ever ignored one of Stan's calls. The guilt would've been too much, so as Kyle dug around his book bag, searching for his own cell phone, Stan maneuvered around him quickly, claiming that he needed a smoke break on his way out the door.

"What's up, my wonderful friend, Kenny McCormick?" Stan spoke chirpily, trying a little bit too hard. He himself didn't understand his sudden over the top friendliness, even pinching the bridge of his nose at that awful greeting.

"…Just rainbows and sunshine, my special friend, Stan Marsh." Kenny snorted in response. He laughed at Stan's exasperated sigh. "Just wanted to let you know, Clyde's actually going through with throwing a party this weekend… you gonna go?"

"Huh? Is he really? Yeah sure. I'll go." Stan looked forward into space, Kenny would usually text him something like this. He'd never call unless it was something pretty important, so Stan was left not knowing where to go from there. Sure, he'd love to talk on the phone, but when it came to Kenny, he's conditioned to bracing himself before some bombshell hit him.

"Cool, cool." Kenny hesitated his next words for so long that Stan had to pull the phone away from his ear to see if they were still connected. "So uh. You hanging out with Kyle?"

"Uhm, yeah we were just watching T.V." Stan felt sick, the awkwardness making his weak stomach want to collapse on itself like a dying star. "Do you… wanna—"

"What, oh no! I'm good. It's just..." Stan could hear ruffling in the background, realizing that Kenny must be on his patio smoking again. "Stan, did you know Kyle was coming back today?"

"I didn't," he spoke truthfully, now needing a smoke himself. "He just kind of surprised me."

"Yeah. It just didn't seem like something he'd do. You know? He's never been the most spontaneous."

"Yeah, Kyle seems a bit different now…"

"Oh yeah? Like how? Because, last time I saw him…" Kenny didn't finish, and for a few seconds all Stan could hear was wind pouring through the speaker of the phone. When Kenny's voice finally returned it sounded so far away. "Nevermind, I'll see you guys later, alright?"

Stan didn't get a chance to say a goodbye before he heard a click from the other end. He lowered his phone back down and stood solid for a few minutes. He didn't like this feeling one bit. He didn't want to hurt Kenny's feelings for hanging out with his best friend, and he didn't like to step around Kyle to talk to Kenny. "Yeah this isn't going to happen."

Stan opened the door to Kyle smiling and waving his found phone in the air. The raven nodded approvingly at his friend, as he slid his own device back into his pocket. Kyle turned back to his small mobile and began tapping on it vigorously, responding to some text messages that he'd ignored all day.

"Why make a phone so small if they didn't want me to lose it?" Kyle asked holding it up to an approaching Stan. "It's screaming to get lost. Hey can you download that app? The one that helps you find your lost phone?"

"Sure dude." Stan nodded taking his seat next to Kyle again. "But real talk. I was just outside talking—"

"Talking to Kenny." Kyle finished for him, eyes never looking up from his text. Stan swallowed hard, wondering if Kyle was going to break down like he did when they broke up. That was the saddest moment in Stan's entire life, watching a red face, tear stained Kyle lay helplessly on his bed.

"Uh, yeah." Stan said after making sure that Kyle was still solid as a rock, before continuing. "I know that you guys were on bad terms when you left… But today you seemed totally cool around him, and I just want to make sure you're going to be okay doing that. You know, because Kenny is part of the group… And so are you! It's just uh…"

"Stan, its fine. I don't care." Kyle said nonchalantly, he voice couldn't sound more disinterested. "Besides, we didn't leave onthe best terms, but they weren't god awful."

"Kyle. You sobbed until you passed out."

"Uh yeeeeah." Kyle scratched the back of his head, his red curls falling limp over his shameful looking expression. "Promise you won't be mad?"

"Oh god. What?"

"Look, over spring break, junior year… I came home for a few days."

Stan reacted fast, standing up with his face contorted to one of hurt and dejection. Kyle just met his gaze with a composed atmosphere, his hands guiding Stan back into his seat like a magic spell. "Why didn't you tell me?" Stan squeaked the words out, ignoring the fact that if Cartman were there, he'd call him an overdramatic, pansy flower.

"Well, you were gone on a trip to the coast with your friends. Telling you would've just bummed you out." Stan slowly relaxed his shoulders, losing the feeling of betrayal instantly. "So I was just hanging around in town, and I ran into Kenny. I wanted to walk away, but he was so adamant on talking to me. So I went back to his place…and well, in the end we didn't really talk. We just kind of screwed. Then I told him I hated his guts, and went back to New York."

"Wait a second." Stan waved his hands out pleadingly, his eyes squeezed shut, forcing himself not to get a mental image. "If you hate his guts… Why sleep with him?"

"Come on, Stan. I don't really hate the guy. I was just mad." Kyle huffed and leaned back into the couch, he looked like he did back at Stark's pond. Eyes lost into some unknown world, blocking everything out of his mind for a few moments. He wasn't used to talking about himself so much, but he assumed, that since he did just surprise attacked everyone that he would have quite a bit of explaining to do. Kyle's shimmering eyes fell back over Stan, and the boy simply shrugged. "Besides, it's just sex.

After that night, Stan didn't bother Kyle with any more questions about his life in New York, being an artist, or about Kenny. He found that Kyle didn't act distant at all as long as they weren't talking about his personal life. True, it did bother Stan a bit, seeing as he was expected to open up about himself, whereas Kyle was a locked chest. But he preferred a Kyle that was talking to him over one that would stare off into the distance quietly. And it didn't take long for Kyle to resume his old spot in the group as well. His calm nature and genuinely nice personality attracted Tweek, Token, Clyde, and Butters to his side, and his other, combative, ready to argue half was good for Cartman and even Craig.

However, when it came to being around Kenny, it was clear there was strain. Not that Kyle didn't try his hardest to keep up a cool front, and the same to Kenny, but it was just an obvious underlying problem between the two. The passing few days looked like torture, struggling exchanges were enough to make even a passerby cringe. Both wanted to look like the bigger person by making dead end conversation, not realizing the awkwardness that would disburse into the air almost like poisonous gas. Kyle would find himself taking the long way to his classes if it meant not having to shovel out another fake "hello", and he would usually avoid engaging him in one on one discussions. When he had told Stan that he didn't hate Kenny, he wasn't lying, but he couldn't help but feel a something disrupt his chest whenever he saw him.

"Hey Kyle!" Clyde sang, as he leaned against the red head's locker pulling him out of his thoughts. "Don't forget, party at my house tonight!"

"Yeah, I remember." Kyle hummed as he shoved his books back into his locker. "I'll be there dude, don't worry."

"Awesome! Hey, wanna go smoke on the roof?" Clyde asked, patting his filled pockets expectantly. Kyle grinned as he slammed the door shut, he needed something to get the edge off. He followed behind Clyde as he made his way towards the stairwell, reminiscing about the time when he stumbled upon the unlocked door to the sanctuary. Probably his most favorite accomplishment at South Park High.

"Someone's up here." Clyde said as he pushed on the unmoving doors at the top of the stairs. "Looks like someone's got the flag pole between the handles."

Kyle watched patiently as his friend performed the not so complicated secret knock followed by the sound of the metal pole clanging against the ground. As the doors swung open they were greeted by a crown of bright blonde hair and stunning blue shimmering eyes.

Kyle sighed.

 **A/N: What the hell is going on with you Kyle? Why are you so mysterious!? Why won't you talk about what happened!? Or don't who cares?**


End file.
